


I'm in Control Here, Pumpkin

by SluttyPamian



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Well technically he never said yes OR no, i think he may be a bit occ?, mentions of body horror, more like handsome jackhole, or was it 4?, spoilers for episode 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SluttyPamian/pseuds/SluttyPamian
Summary: Rhys makes a last ditch attempt to get rid of Jack once and for all, but the once mighty Hyperion CEO has other plans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Been a hot minute since I've posted, and this is an idea that's been in my head even before I finished TFTB. Also, I lost motivation on this towards the end so it just kind of... Ends??? Not beta'd or spell checked either. Sorry...

It wasn't the turn of events Rhys was expecting. To he honest, Rhys didn't know what he expected when he tried to shut Jack down by tearing off his own arm. It was a desperate measure he hoped would work, but instead it made Jack even madder.

“You're not getting rid of me that easily, princess.” The man snarled.

He was able to stop Rhys at the last second by grabbing on to the very spike of metal he planned to pierce his arm with and using it to fling Rhys to the ground. He grunted in pain from the impact and tried to quickly scramble to his feet but was stopped by his fingers wrapping around his throat for a second time. He frantically tried to pry them off his throat, but Jack’s control was too powerful.

“You know kid-” Jack let go of Rhys’ throat long enough to smack him in the face. A choked sob escaped him before the fingers returned.

“If you had just listened to me, we could've avoided all this.”

Jack leaned down and hovered inches from Rhys’ face.

“Now look at you, you're stuck under my boot like old gum. It’s pathetic really. I'd almost feel sorry for you, if, you know, you didn't deserve this.”

Rhys could feel himself losing consciousness and his attempts to pry his fingers off his neck weakened. From far in the distance, he could still hear Jack laughing as everything dimmed around him. Jack drew closer with a malicious grin and watched as Rhys struggled to keep his eyes open.

“You know pumpkin, this is a good look on you.”

Without realizing what he was doing, Rhys moaned and jerked his body. The fingers against his neck fluttered and their grip relaxed slightly. The grin on Jack’s face changed to one of curiosity and he changed the grip on Rhys’ neck.

“Well kiddo... If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're enjoying this.”

Rhys whined and tried to shake off Jack’s grip. Jack chuckled and watched in glee as Rhys moaned again and kicked his legs.

“Rhysie, Rhysie, Rhysie... You are enjoying this. You're quite the masochist.”

Jack knelt down and settled between Rhys’ legs. He made a show of placing the hand that wasn't choking Rhys against the younger man’s crotch and attempting to stroke it. Jack frowned and lifted his eyes back up to Rhys.

“Why don't you give me a little hand here pumpkin?”

Shame pooling in his chest, Rhys slowly reached a hand down and mimicked Jack’s motions. He was already half hard under his fingertips and somehow Jack choking the life out of him wasn't hindering the process.

“Now that's a good boy, Rhysie.” Jack purred. 

Jack changed his grip again, and Rhys desperately sucked in as much air as he could. It was easier for Rhys to breathe now, but Jack’s grip still left him dizzy and spots dancing at the corner of his vision.

“You're disgusting, you know that kiddo?”

Jack moved his holographic hand up Rhys’ torso, and the younger man followed obediently. 

“I can't believe you're actually lying here and getting off to this.”

Rhys moaned again and tried to say something. Because of Jack's grip, it came out a garbled and hoarse whisper.

“Sorry, sorry, could you repeat that?”

Rhys moaned again, a loud keen and jerked his hips up.

“Absolutely filthy...” Jack breathed, his voice taken on a husky timbre.

“I bet you've thought about this before, haven't you? All your hero worship couldn't have been fit for Sunday school, isn't that right?”

Rhys whimpered and reached again for the front of his pants. There was no denying he was hard now and he could feel himself leaking precome into his underwear.

“What are you waiting for, princess? Permission?”

The hand around Rhys’ throat tightened and Jack licked his lips with a predatory grin.

“Show me how filthy you are.”

Rhys was almost crying as he frantically tried to undo his belt and pants with one hand. When he got them off, he slipped his cock from his boxers and turned his head away from Jack in shame.

“Oh no, you're going to look at me.”

Rhys slowly turned his head back and wrapped his fingers around his cock. The fingers around his throat flexed excitedly and he could've swore he saw Jack shiver in anticipation.

“That's it Rhysie, show daddy what a dirty boy you are.”

If Rhys could talk, a drawn out ‘fuck’ would've tumbled off his lips. He circled the head of his cock with his fingers and spread the precome along his shaft before starting a lazy pace. He was entranced by Jack’s expression and no matter how badly he wanted to tear his eyes away he couldn't.

“Is that the best you can do pumpkin? I want to see a show.”

Jack managed to adjust the hand choking Rhys so he was able to shove two fingers in his mouth. The metallic taste invaded him, as well as the taste of dirt and God knows what else. Jack swirled the digits around and watched with a grin as Rhys had no choice but to suck on them.

“Oh that's much better. You look awfully cute like this, Rhysie. Come on, show me how much you're enjoying this.”

Rhys moaned eagerly in response this time and increased the pace he stroked himself. He thrust his hips into his hand as he stroked and swirled his tongue around the fingers in his mouth. Spit dribbled down his chin and dripped onto his clothing. Jack made a noise in the back of his throat and straddled Rhys’ hips.

“Christ kiddo,” He began.

“What I would give to wreck you. Fuck that tight little ass of yours with my hands around your throat.”

The whine that escaped Rhys was pathetic and needy. Every word sent a sick jolt of pleasure straight to Rhys’ dick and his hips spent more time thrusting into the air than they did on the ground.

“Let's see it Rhys. Come for me, show me what a slut you are for daddy.”

With a few more thrusts, Rhys was coming thick spurts over his hand. When he finished the pressure on his neck vanished and he laid on the ground rasping to regain his breath while the afterglow of his climax settled over him. He was vaguely aware of Jack moving his hand to wipe off the spit and going so far as to make a half assed attempt to tuck Rhys back into his pants. When he could finally breathe again, and the afterglow was finally fading, Rhys sat up slowly and looked at Jack.

“No need to thank me pumpkin, you're not good enough for me anyway.”

The shame settled over Rhys again and he turned his head away. Jack forced him to turn his head and the two made eye contact. Jack's face was smug, the face of a man who had everything in the world.

“You're not going to win now Rhysie. You can kill me, Hell, you can kill yourself if that's the next thing that's gonna jimmy your johns. But I took something you're never going to get back. There is not going to be a single day where you don't think of what I did to you.” 

Rhys shakily climbed to his feet.

“Fuck you.” He mumbled.

“Fuck. You.” He spat again with venom.

Before Jack could react, Rhys flung himself forward and pierced his metal arm with exposed piping. He grit his teeth against the pain and grabbed hold of the wires holding it in place. He glared at Jack with a deadly fire in his eyes and opened his mouth.

“Game over.”


End file.
